Raven's Return - Ruby Dixon Page 0,67

as a stripper." I shrug. "But that's who I am. I'm sorry I lied. I just didn't think you guys would like the truth, so I made up a story."

Again, the uncomfortable silence falls.

Lauren is the first one to speak up. "Why did you think no one would like you?"

I arch an eyebrow in her direction. "How many strippers are you friends with back home?"

Lauren's mouth works and then she falls silent.

"She's got a point," Hannah says, a faint grimace on her face.

I shrug. "I'm not saying it to be a jerk. It's just…strippers hang out with other strippers. We work nights, pay in cash, shop the same places…you just hang with your people."

Flor perks up, snapping her fingers. "I always wondered why a hippie would have a tramp stamp of a dollar bill on her back. Now I know."

I laugh, because it's the most ridiculous thing. "I'd forgotten all about that." I touch the small of my back, over the tattoo I haven't seen in forever, much less thought about. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"It also explains why all her songs are stripper songs," Veronica chimes in. "I mean, she sings them differently but…still stripper songs."

She's not wrong. Those are the songs I know the best. "I just like singing. And dancing, really, but I promise not to do that here. It's not like I've got a burning urge to rip all my clothes off and gyrate on a pole. I just liked the money." I shrug. "And I haven't stolen anything since I went to jail, so you guys don't have to worry about that, either. But if you want me to leave the camp, I understand."

"No one wants you to leave," Harlow says. "Whatever happened back on Earth was a lifetime ago. Not just for you, but for all of us." She hugs Rukhar, who's still in her lap, as if she's thinking about how very different her life is now compared to what she had on Earth. "All we can do now is judge you by your actions, and you've always contributed and been pleasant around here. I don't see a problem."

"I'm glad you said something, though," Liz adds. "I prefer honesty."

"I'm glad you said something, too," Flor chimes in.

"You are?" I'm surprised by that.

"Sure," Flor continues, an impish smile on her face. "If there's ever an emergency, I know who to go to for the lyrics to the 'Thong Song.'"

I groan. So does Bridget, who nudges Flor. Sam shoots a glare in her direction.

"What?! Inappropriate humor is how I cope with awkward situations," Flor says. She gives me a meek look. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I've heard worse, trust me."

An uncomfortable silence falls again, and I feel so damn awkward. I'm relieved it's all out in the open, but I'm dreading that this is going to be my new reality: lots of awkward silences wherever I go. No one's going to know what to say to me or how to act around me, and something tells me it has more to do with my stripping than my car-thieving. It's the story of my life. Everyone can relate to being so angry at a cheating boyfriend…not many can relate to taking clothes off for money. It doesn't matter that I enjoyed it, or I was good at it, or I just love dancing and performing.

It's that it's stripping, full stop. And really, haven't I been through this dozens of times before? All the guys I dated where they were “fine” with my job until it was time to meet friends or see family on a holiday? Girlfriends that loved going out to clubs until they found out I stripped and then looked at me like I was a whore? That's why strippers hang out together. It's just nice to be among friends who won't judge you for what you do.

Someone clears his throat. I look up and see R'jaal has utter confusion written all over his face. "I still do not understand. What is the issue? I take my clothes off all the time. Many of us do. Should we stop?"

Several of the women chuckle, but when no one answers him, I speak up. "It's the type of dancing. I don't dance the same when I dance for money. It's also different in how you take your clothes off."

"Can you show us?" he asks. Nearby, O'jek and Sessah nod, wearing equally puzzled expressions.

A chorus of groans and disgusted noises rise from the women. Sam